


Scrapbooking

by angelsfalling16



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Based on a Tumblr Post, Fluff, M/M, Post-Book: Carry On, SnowBaz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-28 06:38:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16718248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelsfalling16/pseuds/angelsfalling16
Summary: Simon collects tickets, photos, and other various items but never gets around to doing anything with them. They just sit around in a drawer until one day, Baz surprises him.





	Scrapbooking

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this Tumblr post: https://angelsfalling16.tumblr.com/post/180137628465/dollymyfolly-im-the-type-of-person-who-holds-on

**Simon**

I rub my eyes sleepily as I walk out of my bedroom and out into the living room of mine and Penny’s flat. I tried to get Baz to stay over last night, but he said that he would come over early this morning. He isn’t here yet, but I didn’t expect him to be. It’s not even seven yet. Penny is probably still asleep, too.

I walk into our small kitchen in search of food. I pull out a tub of butter and for a moment, I consider just eating it with a spoon. I decide not to in case Penny walks out of her room and sees me with a spoonful of butter halfway to my mouth. I toast some bread and add an unhealthy amount of butter to it instead. It’s almost as good as the butter by itself would have been.

I take my plate of toast and a full glass of milk over to the small table that just barely managed to fit in here. At first, I don’t notice the object that is sitting on top of it. Then, I just think that it’s one of Penny’s binders full of school work. A couple of minutes pass before I notice the orange sticky note on the top that says, ‘For Simon.’

I pull the binder closer, and I see that it is actually a scrapbook. I recognize the handwriting as Baz’. It’s neater than Penny’s.

I open it up, and on the first page, there are a couple of different pictures and the words ‘Our Journey.’ There is a picture of gates to Watford, the out side of the building Penny and I live in, and a picture of the college we attend. There is space available on this page to add more pictures. I run my fingers over the words written in Baz’ neat and concise handwriting before flipping the page.

This page is like a memorial to the trip that we all took when Penny and I first came to look at this flat. There are pictures of my ticket, the train, the passing landscape, another picture of the outside of the building. Penny said that all of the pictures I was taking were unnecessary and a bit much, but I wanted something to remember it all by. At the bottom of the page is the date written in Baz’ handwriting.

I flip to the next page, and there is a page full of ticket stubs from the movies that I have gone to see with either Penny, Baz, or both. There is a picture of the movie theater that we usually go to, which I did not actually take, so that means someone else must have. I wonder if it was Baz.

The page across from it is a bunch of pictures from around our flat that I took. Penny reading. Penny studying. Penny telling me to stop taking pictures. Baz lying on the couch, about to fall asleep. Baz asleep on the couch after not sleeping much the night before. My room, before and after I unpacked everything. Some pictures of me that I didn’t know they took, including one of me eating a spoonful of butter at some point when I thought no one was looking. Under every picture there is a description, and there are dates for some of them.

I flip the page again and find two pages that are labeled, ‘our trip to America.’ There’s the plane ticket, and a couple of postcards that I bought. Then, there are various receipts of places that we shopped at. There are also some pictures of Micah and Agatha and all of us together when she came and visited us while we were there.

After that, there are blank pages. Space to fill with more tickets and receipts and pictures and whatever else we want. Space to fill with new memories to come. Because we will be building more memories, and the thought feels with me warmth.

I flip to the back, and on the inside of the back cover, there is a short note that Baz wrote in his elegant script:

_Simon, I’ve loved all the things we’ve done together, and I can’t wait to make more memories with you. I love you. -Baz_

This book is full of things we did in the past, but it also holds the hope of spending more time together. I smile as I flip back through the pages, and that’s how Penny finds me. A plate of bread of crumbs and an empty milk glass beside mean smiling stupidly at the contents of the scrapbook.

“So, he finally gave that to you?” She asks, yawning.

“You knew?” I ask, looking up.

“Who do you think got all of that stuff out of you room?”

“This was your idea?” I ask, almost disappointed at the thought that it wasn’t all Baz’ doing. It’s still a really sweet idea, though.

“Oh, no. It was all his idea. I just had to be the one to get the tickets and pictures and things out of your room while you were out one day.”

I look back down at the scrapbook smiling. This is the best gift that anyone has ever given to me. Penny moves around the kitchen, making herself breakfast while I slowly look each picture again. After a few minutes, the doorbell rings, and I know that it will be Baz.

“I’ll get it,” Penny says. “You clean up your breakfast.”

I quickly do as she says, anxious to see Baz and ask him about the scrapbook.

“Good morning, Simon,” he says behind me.

I smile as I turn to face him. I make myself walk slowly to him before throwing my arms around his neck.

“So, I’m going to take that to mean that you liked the scrapbook I made for you,” he says, wrapping his arms around me.

I nod into his neck before taking a step back. “I loved it.”

The corner of his mouth lifts, and he leans down slightly to kiss me.

“Get a room,” Penny says, entering the kitchen again. “I’m tired of watching you kiss all the time. I’m going to be sick.”

Baz pulls away with a smirk. “Come on, Simon. Let’s go to your room.” He tugs on my hand, and I follow after him.

I close the door behind us, and he turns to face me. The smirk is gone, replaced by a nervous smile.

“Did you really like the scrapbook?” He asks.

I step closer to him and snake my arms around his waist. “I loved it,” I tell him again. “I can’t believe that you took the time to do all of that.”

“I was tired of looking at your messy drawer full of that,” he says, but the smile playing on his lips gives away that that wasn’t his only motivation.

“I love you, Baz,” I say, pulling him closer.

“I love you, too, Simon.”


End file.
